Benny stared into the black maw defined by the open door. Is that a man standing back there? The inky blackness swirled and parted, and the shape did look like a man was standing at the back of the foyer, watching him. He blinked hard, and the outline of a man disappeared into the black, sinking into it like an anchor sinking into the sea.
“Why not come in and at least look at the Pro, son? Lookin’s always for free. Come see if I’m lying, why don’tcha?”
Benny took his foot off the pedal and shook it a little. It was going numb. He eyed the entry hall of the white house with distrust. Nothing was moving in there. Nothing moved at the windows. How did the man know he was shaking his head? Was that outline really the man?
“Just do it, Benny. You know Toby would.”
Something snapped inside Benny, and his strange reluctance to leave evaporated. He wheeled the bike in a tight circle and pedaled as if his life depended on it. Maybe it did. Behind him, the man made a sound like a rabbit being killed by a cat, and Benny thought it was how the man laughed. “Well, you know where we are, son,” he called and then made that awful laughing sound. The door closed with a slam.
Benny didn’t slow down until he hit Main Street. Without thinking, without planning, he’d ridden to the safest place he knew—Town Hall, and his dad’s office. He’d be in dutch for cutting school, but right then he didn’t care. He was scared, and he was scared for Toby.
He wheeled his bike right inside, amidst the chuckles of the town employees, but heck, if the son of the town manager couldn’t bring a bike inside, who could?
His dad was in his office, sitting behind his modest desk. As Benny wheeled his bike inside the office, he looked up, met Benny’s gaze for a moment, and then his eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. When his gaze settled on Benny, his eyes had that look that said Benny was in it with both feet.
“No school today?” his father asked as if there was nothing amiss.
“I know, Dad, I know, but please listen first.”
His dad tilted his head back and pursed his lips, looking down his nose at Benny with squinty eyes. “Go on, then.”
Benny leaned his bike against the wall.
“Start with why you have a bike inside the building.” His father’s voice had that you’re-in-trouble-but-I’m-amused ring to it.
Benny sank into one of the chairs across the desk from his father. “Dad, you know I do good in school, right? You know I don’t cut.”
“Much,” said his father.
Benny suppressed a grin and nodded. “Much. I had to cut today, Dad. You might not agree right now, but if you bear with me, I think you just might.”
His father quirked his eyebrows, and his lips twitched like he wanted to grin, but thought he shouldn’t.
“You know my friend, Toby, right?”
“Toby Burton?” his dad said with a sour expression clouding his face.
“Yeah. Look, I know his mom is a real—”
“Yes, she is, son. Go on.”
“Yeah, so anyway, Toby doesn’t have a bike, right?”
His dad’s eyes drifted to his Record Ace leaning against the wall.
“He still has to walk everywhere, and it rankles him. He’s the only one of us, and when we’re all going somewhere, he gets this look on his face. Like he wants to disappear.”
His dad nodded.
“Well, he told me about this ad in the paper. A classified ad selling a bike for twenty bucks, right? He didn’t come out and say it, but the hushed-up way he told me about it—Toby wanted that bike and somehow had twenty dollars.”
“Son, what’s all this have—”
“Just listen, Dad. Please.”
His dad made a twirling motion with his index finger and leaned back in his leather chair.
“So, the ad, right? And Toby’s been out of school for three days. Well, today made the fourth, okay? He’s never cut like that. Not once, and I’ve known him all my life.”
“Maybe he’s sick.”
“No, Dad. I rode over to his house after school yesterday. I talked to his mom—”
“You went over to Mill Lane? You know I don’t want you down there.”
“I do, Dad, but you always say we have to look out for our friends, right? I thought maybe his mom…”
“You thought his mom beat him up?”
Benny nodded. “Yeah, it’s happened before.”
“How many times?”
“I don’t know, Dad. A lot. He comes to school with bruises on his face or a black eye or all scraped up.”
“Son,” his father said gently, “why didn’t you tell me?”
Benny looked nonplused. “I… I don’t know, Dad. I didn’t think…”
“You didn’t think it was your business to tell. Well, we need more people who speak up, Benny. Child abuse is not okay. Not in any sense. Discipline should never—never—leave bruises, especially on the face.” His dad pulled a pad toward him and wrote something down.
“Dad, listen. This isn’t about—”
“Well, maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t, Benny. Maybe it should be about those bruises.”
“Dad, listen to me! Please!”
His dad put his gold Cross pen down on his desk blotter and leaned back in the chair, an expression of worry on his face. “There’s more?”
“Yes, Dad. There’s more.”
His dad twirled his fingers.
“When Toby didn’t show up again today, I knew something bad had happened. Then I remembered that bike ad, an ad for a twenty-dollar bike. It just didn’t sound right to me.”
“Too good to be true,” murmured his dad.
“Yeah, exactly. I decided I should go over to that house and do a little recce.”
His dad sat up straight and put both hands flat on the desk in front of him, but instead of the grin Benny had expected from the use of the word “recce,” his dad was frowning. “Tell me you didn’t go over there.”
“I did, Dad. I had to. I had to do a recce, at least. But, I thought if I stayed on my bike, nothing could happen. I figured I’d just ride by the house and take a look.”
“And where is this house, Benjamin?”
Benny’s stomach soured a bit at being called by his full first name. That was never good. “It’s the last house on Thousand Acre Drive.”
“You rode over there by those woods? By those secluded woods, to see if your friend met with foul ends there, all alone?”
Benny nodded and looked at his lap.
“I raised you to be smarter than that, Benjamin.”
“There’s more, Daddy. I was stupid, but done is done and can’t be undone, right?”
His dad made the twirling motion with his finger.
“The house is…well, it’s kind of run-down. Kind of…scary. The windows are all blacked-out with cloth. The paint is peeling like mad, and some of the siding is gone. Out back, there’s this pile of like twenty or thirty bikes.”
“Is that all of it?”
Benny shook his head, looking at his lap again. “I…I decided to ride by and get a closer look. When I got in front of the house, I stopped without really meaning to. I stayed on my bike though.”
“Benjamin…”
“Trust me, Dad, I know it was stupid. The front door opened, but no one came out. It was all dark inside the house. No one moved in there, but a man spoke to me. He saw me somehow even though the windows were blacked-out. He offered me a trade. My Record Ace for a Raleigh Professional Mark 2. And forty dollars. He said you’d paid like a hundred for my bike, but that I hadn’t paid a dime and that if I traded him, I’d have a better bike and forty dollars to spend how I liked. I said no way, but he kept at me. He said I should come inside and look at the Pro, that looking was free—”
“Benjamin James Cartwright, if you went in that house, I’m going to tan your backside but good!” His dad was half out of his chair and looking at him with hard, worried eyes.
Benny held up his hands. “I’m stupid, Dad,
but I’m not that stupid. When I said no again, he upped his offer. My bike for a Raleigh Pro, forty bucks, and my choice of bikes from the backyard. He said I could sell it or give it to a friend, he didn’t care which. He kept at me to come in and look at the bike.”
His dad sank back into his chair. “Is that all of it then, Ben?” his dad asked in a hushed voice.
“Oh! He also said ‘Do it, Benny. You know Toby would.’ But I never said anything about Toby, Dad, so how did he know?”
His father shrugged.
“When he said that, I suddenly felt free, and I got the heck out of there. I rode as fast as I could and came straight here.”
His dad steepled his fingers in front of his face and looked at Benny over them. His eyes were calm. “So, this guy freaked you out a little.”
“Oh yeah, he knew where we live, too. I forgot that part. He said anyone with a bike like mine lived on Rabbit Run or Deer Vale.”
His father nodded. “True enough, probably. I’ll tell you, Benny, I’m glad your recce scared you. Can you guess why?”
Benny shook his head, more than a little surprised by what his dad had said, and by his mild tone.
“Because I never, ever, want you to do something that stupid again.” His voice had gone hard. “Now, this guy doesn’t sound all that bad—” He held up his hand when Benny opened his mouth to speak. “No, Son, I listened to you, now you listen to me.”
Benny closed his mouth and nodded. Fair was fair.
“This guy is probably retired and probably sells a few bikes he’s salvaged from the dump over in Cottonwood Vale. He probably gets them for a buck a piece, cleans them up and sells them for a two-thousand percent profit. Not a bad idea.” He steepled his fingers and tapped them against his lips. “Now, he sounds okay to me, just an old coot, but he might have been something else entirely.”
“Stranger danger,” Benny breathed.
“Yes, Son, exactly. Now, I know you know better. What I don’t understand is why you did what you did today.”
“But what about the blacked-out windows?” He leaned forward and came up on the edge of the seat.
His dad shrugged. “Maybe he used to work nights and hasn’t broken the habit of sleeping in the daytime. Maybe the light hurts his eyes. Maybe he just doesn’t want to be spied on from the top of that hill.”
Benny hadn’t thought about any of those possibilities. “But Toby wanted his bike.”
“Son, there are so many things that could explain Toby’s absence. We started this conversation with the most likely of them.”
“What, his mom knocked him around?”
“Could be, Benny. And she told you he wasn’t home because she doesn’t want anyone to know how bad she beat him. Child abusers are ashamed of what they do, Benny. They don’t want it out there for everyone to see. They don’t want to get in trouble.”
Benny sank back in his chair. He hadn’t even thought of that reason.
“Now, Son, tell me which sounds more likely: a kidnapper is living on Thousand Acre Drive that no one knows about or even suspects or Toby’s mother got a little loose with her fists?”
Benny sighed, letting out the tension and fear that had ridden him since that morning at school. “Yeah.”
“Right. So, Benny, what do we do about it?”
Benny thought about it. His mind worked hard, coming up with one scheme to get inside Toby’s house and rescue him, discarding it, and then coming up with another. He was a smart kid, but he was only eleven. “I don’t know, Dad.”
“The first step, you did just now. You told an adult about it. The next step is up to the adult you told, and that’s me. Understand, Son?”
“Yeah,” Benny said.
“Is it up to you?”
“No, Dad.”
“Right. It’s up to me, and you can rest assured that I will do something about it. I would do something even if he weren't your friend. Know why?”
“Because you are awesome.”
His dad chuckled. “Thank you, Benny, but that’s not why. The reason is that I believe it’s my responsibility. I’m the town manager, sure, but I’m also a man who believes in defending those who are too weak to do it themselves. I’m duty-bound to do that. Understand?”
“I think so, Dad, but I think we said the same thing. You just used more air. And words.”
His dad chuckled again. “So, let’s review. What are you going to do to help Toby?”
“Trust you.”
“Right. You’re going to trust me to do the right thing.”
“Okay, Dad.”
“Okay.” He looked at Benny with a somber expression. “Now, let’s talk about this cutting school business.”
Benny’s heart sank. “Okay, Dad.”
“I believe you when you said you had to do something, you just picked the wrong thing to do. Right?”
“Yeah, at first, but I got there in the end.”
His dad chuckled again. “Yes, you did. Even so, there’s going to be a price here. There’s got to be a punishment, don’t you agree? For being so irresponsible.”
“For going to the house alone.”
“Yes, for being so foolish, but also for not telling me, or some other adult, and letting them take the appropriate steps.”
“Right, Dad.”
“What should that punishment be, Benny.”
Benny looked at his shoes. The bike, he thought but didn’t want to say. “Does there have to be one?”
“Come on, Benny. You know how this works.”
Benny nodded. “Ground me.”
“How long?”
“A week?” he whispered.
“Let me ask you this. How long would I be in trouble with your Mom if that bike got you kidnapped or worse?”
Forever, he thought. “A long time?”
“You bet your britches, sonny boy.” His dad steepled his fingers again. “We’ll forego a week’s restriction. We’ll go with a month without the bike. Maybe a month of hoofing it will help you to remember.”
I freakin’ knew it, Benny thought. “Yes, sir.”
“So, we are agreed?”
“Okay, Dad. A month without my bike.”
“Okay. Is it fair?”
Benny worked it over in his mind. His dad always wanted to know if it was a fair punishment, and Benny thought that was one of the reasons he could trust him to look into Toby’s bruises. “Yes, Dad. If anything, it’s a little…”
“Lenient?”
Benny nodded.
“Should we make it a little harsher?” his dad asked and then laughed as Benny’s face scrunched up. “Like I said, Benny. I believe you when you said you had to do something, and it’s good that you felt that way. My only quibble is what you chose to do—putting yourself in potential danger. Your welfare is my responsibility, too.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll leave it at a month without the bike, Benny.”
“Time off for good behavior?”
His dad chuckled. “We’ll see.”
That’s the best Benny had hoped for, so he smiled.
“Now, let’s get you to school.” He rested his hand lightly on his son’s shoulder and led him out to his brown Oldsmobile Toronado. They joked and laughed all the way to the school.
After the excitement of the morning, the rest of the day was boring. Benny got back to school in time for his least favorite subject: math. When the school bell rang, and Mike and Paul raced to the bike rack, Benny felt the loss of his bike like a physical pain.
Mike glanced back and saw him standing there. “Gonna ride home with us, Benny?”
“No bike.”
“Oh.” Mike looked at Paul and Paul shrugged.
Benny had imagined he knew how Toby felt, but now he had firsthand knowledge. It was much worse than he thought.
“Let’s walk our bikes, Paul.”
“Sure,” said Paul. “Where’s your bike, Benny? At home?”
“At my dad’s office. I los
t it for a month for cutting this morning.”
“Oh,” said Paul in a small voice. “Sorry, man.”
“Nah,” said Benny. “It’s a fair punishment.”
“Hey, we’d be walking anyway if Toby was here.” Mike looked at Benny with surprise on his face. “Where is Toby, anyway? It’s been a couple of days.”
“Four,” said Benny.
“Four?”
Benny nodded. “That’s why I cut. I…” All of a sudden, the idea of racing across town to find out if Toby had been kidnapped or killed was embarrassing, and he didn’t want to say it.
“You went and looked for him, right?” said Mike with a small smile. “That’s the real reason you lost the bike, right?”
Benny shrugged.
“Did you find him?”
“No,” said Benny. “But I found a scary old asshole.”
“Like Paul’s?” laughed Mike.
“Worse.”
“Nothing’s worse than Paul’s asshole.”
Benny smiled, happy to be with his friends. “I told my dad about Toby, though, and he says he’ll take care of it.”
“His mom?” asked Paul.
“Dad thinks so. So do I. Now.”
“Your dad’s okay, Benny,” said Mike.
“Yeah, he is,” said Benny, meaning every word.
“Let’s go to the park. You can tell us all about it on the way.”
Benny nodded, and the boys walked toward Neibolt Street. He recounted the visit to the dingy white house and the conversation with the old man.
“Creepy,” said Paul. “Do you think—”
“Dad says he’s probably just retired.”
“Yeah, maybe,” said Mike in a voice that said otherwise. “Even so, maybe we should go over there and—”
“Didn’t you hear what he said?” snapped Paul. “His dad’s got it, man, and going there already cost Benny his bike for a month. Leave it.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, Benny.”
Benny nodded, trying to ignore the little voice inside his head that was shouting Toby needed their help.
3
Jim Cartwright pulled his Toronado onto the cracked concrete that served as the Burton’s driveway. The house was a mess, and Jim shook his head in disgust.
Nightmare Page 2